


Tainted Nostalgia Goggles

by bar2d2s



Category: The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bar2d2s/pseuds/bar2d2s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark told him that this sort of thing happened from time to time. Len would drink too much and slip off into a fantasy land, where he and Lisa were on fairly good terms in the months leading up to her death instead of, well. Instead of what had actually happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tainted Nostalgia Goggles

“Shit. You’re beautiful.”

The words had come tumbling out of his mouth completely unbidden. Five or six beers will do that to a man. Axel paused in his journey from his room to the kitchen, looking behind himself.

“What, me?” Standing shakily, Len lurched over to the smaller man, gripping his chin between his thumb and index finger. He turned Axel’s face this way and that, trying to to find…anything. Pimples, scars, freckles, something to mar the flawless skin.

“Th’ fuck’re you a Rogue for? Should be doing make-up ads.” The blonde raised a, fuck. Either Axel had naturally shaped eyebrows, or the kid was sneaking off to a waxer every few weeks. Reaching up, he pried Len’s hand off of his face. Len laced their fingers together.

“Boss, you’re drunk. Like, really drunk. Stupidly drunk. So, c'mon. Let’s get you,” Len sagged against him, and he grunted under the weight. “Gh! Let’s get you off to bed.”

They walked like two people in a three-legged race, while one was blitzed off his ass. Len kept forgetting where to put his feet, stepping on the bottoms of Axel’s pants and bumping into the wall every now and then. By the time they made it to Len’s claimed space, Axel was sure that he’d have bruises on his upper arm and hip, where Len was clinging to him. “Look at that, there’s your nice, warm, not-attached-to-me bed! Go on, have a lay-down.”

He threw, and threw was the completely appropriate word, as Axel used all of his strength to force the older man off of him, Len onto his bed, and he sprawled on his back.

“Y'look like someone I used to know.” He mumbled, trying to kick his shoes off. In a show of compassion, Axel helped him untie the laces. “Like m'sister.”

“That’s kinda saying epics about you, bossman.” He mumbled to himself, pulling the heavy boot off of Len’s foot and setting it down near his work desk. Len kicked him.

“She got the looks, is what I’m saying. She could'a made something of herself, if she wasn’t…” He made a vague gesture, as if he was looking for a word.

“Crazy?” Axel offered, pulling off the other boot and laying it with its twin. Len glared at him, but didn’t kick this time.

“Yeah. And trying to be like, following the shining example her big brother set for her. Never should'a let her put on that costume.”

Mark told him that this sort of thing happened from time to time. Len would drink too much and slip off into a fantasy land, where he and Lisa were on fairly good terms in the months leading up to her death instead of, well. Instead of what had actually happened. Lisa missed having a partner to work with, but didn’t want to go back to her brother. Len was too pissed off at the idea of her using knockoff versions of him to commit crimes with to think straight when it came to her. Almost every meeting ended in a fight. And then she died, and all the negative things went away. Lisa became a shining angel, one who could do no wrong, and would have had a better life if Captain Cold hadn’t been her brother.

“She got the idea from you, that was it.” Axel never got to meet Lisa, until after she was dead and trying to eat him. He never saw any of the good, and most of what he knew about her came from stories Mark and Mick would tell from time to time. “She skated off cuckoo plateau after her boyfriend died, and that wasn’t your fault. The first time.” Len’s breathing was labored, like he was trying not to cry, and Axel sighed. “You were a good brother, we just live in a shitty world with shitty people, okay? Go to sleep.”

He left after that, not keen to hear any more about how he maybe sort of looked like Len’s dead sister, nor willing to watch his unshakable leader go all to pieces. That was one of the only things about being a Rogue that he didn’t like. Underneath the costumes and the jokes, the men he idolized had some pretty serious mental issues that none of them felt like addressing. Slipping back into his own room, the reason he’d left in the first place long forgotten, Axel burrowed under his covers. That little exercise had left him more than a bit upset, not that he was going to show it. He needed to talk to someone. Anyone. He dug his phone out of his back pocket.

“Hey, Owen? Yeah, it’s me. You busy?”


End file.
